10. Birthsday at Miss Minchis

Another day, more homework. I had completely forgotten how much I hated this crap in my last school days. And in a closed seminar, it's very difficult to use excuses like "I didn't know about homework?". Because someone always asks.

And the reason why I'm already working on my homework in the morning before school starts is because I did the homework from the books my father recommended to me last night. Economics is a lot worse than French, but at least you can put it into practice. French on the other hand?

In less than a year, the Franco-Prussian War will break out and France will lose its status as a continental power. French will then be much less attractive.
Well, that's an argument like "In forty years we'll have cars, why should I learn to ride a horse?"
Maybe I'm just frustrated because I can fall back on knowledge from my previous life with German and not with French.
A look out of the window. London is as gray as ever, but the cold November air seems to add a whole new dimension to the gray.
The last month has gone by quickly. It's amazing how everyday life eats up time and everything unusual becomes normal.
It's pretty hard to remember that Sarah was the princess of this seminary when she's scurrying through the hallways in her tattered black dress, doing chores and not talking to anyone. I think this is the effect Miss Minchi was going for to make us forget exactly what happened.
We are probably even lucky that she has no power fantasies and uses Sarah as an example to show us what she could do to us.
So she has only demoted her to a servant to repay her debts.
And yet... It seems kind of illegal to me. What debts? The one Miss Minchi incurred herself to pay for a doll that was never commissioned? Her father's debts? He didn't owe them to Miss Minchi, the tuition fees were almost certainly paid in advance. Did his lawyer invent something to pocket money himself?
Even in my last life I had a sneaking suspicion that something was not quite right in this connection. Now that I'm watching it live, this suspicion seems all the more plausible.
After all, it would be incredibly easy to separate Sarah from her remaining money. The girl no longer has a guardian, no legal or financial advice and almost certainly no idea of the actual legal processes. It would be easy for an unscrupulous lawyer to pocket the remaining money or for a greedy principal to steal the remaining money and then claim there are debts. How could Sarah defend herself or even find out the truth? Where there's no plaintiff, there's no judge.
Back to the tasks. I can't believe I've been sitting here working since six o'clock. What time is that anyway? Eight o'clock in a minute? I should get changed for the day.
As little as I used to care about fashion, my proper appearance is just as important to me now. Another facet of the old Lavinia that I've adopted. Not bad in itself, but I'm a bit worried about becoming too vain.
Besides, this preparation every morning is a real time waster. I can now understand why old Lavinia really wanted a maid. It would be really helpful and shorten everything. And why Jessie appreciates my help and company in the evening. And it all takes a lot longer with her because of her hair.
I had always thought the stories about Empress Elisabeth's hair care were exaggerated, but Jessie showed me how bad hair care can actually be.

More than forty minutes later, I'm sitting at my desk, this time fully dressed and styled, continuing to work on my assignments.
Whoever invented economics should be spanked.
But I keep working because it could be the key to my future freedom and independence. What a motivation. Just like "Run! Or we'll amputate your legs."
Shortly before nine o'clock, the door suddenly flew open. Jessie was standing in the doorway.
She was already fully dressed and styled, which surprised me a little. Normally when Jessie visited me in the morning, she would come in her nightgown with her hair tousled, wrapped in the robe I'd given her so she wouldn't be so cold. She usually disappeared around nine o'clock to spend the hour before school started making herself presentable.
She must have got up almost as early as me to be ready by now. And the smell?
That was her favorite rose perfume. Was there something special today? Were her parents perhaps planning to introduce her to a suitor? Already now?
I felt a slight panic rising inside me, I hadn't planned for this.
Nevertheless, I didn't let on and raised an eyebrow: "You look wonderful. What's the occasion?"
Jessie beamed at me with flushed cheeks. "Yes, I thought I'd dress up a bit for your special day."
That made me pause for a moment. "My special day?" I could imagine that I looked a little silly. What exactly had I missed?
Jessie looked a little dismayed. "Your birthday? I mean, you're sixteen today, right?"
My birthday? My sixteenth? Wasn't that just... Shit, I was still going by the old date! It wasn't even my birthday in June anymore!
"I had... forgotten that." Now Jessie looked almost angry. "Forgotten? Your birthday?! You're turning sixteen, almost a proper lady, and you forgot?"
"I've had a lot of work to do lately, all right!" I never knew myself to be so defensive.
Jessie seemed to be struggling to calm down.
"So you forgot your birthday. Am I right in assuming that's why you haven't planned anything special for today?"
And I never knew Jessie to be so snippy.
I had to pull myself together. "No, I hadn't planned anything. But if you want, we can go into town after class."
That seemed to cheer Jessie up. "I'd love to come with you. Actually, I thought you had a little party planned here and didn't want it to be publicized because of... you know, Sarah's party." Jessie paused for a moment.
Birthdays would always be a reminder of Sarah in this seminary.
"Well, I hadn't prepared anything. After all, I really didn't think it was my birthday. But let's just do something spontaneous, we'll think of something."
"But why only after class? Surely Miss Minchi would allow you not to have to go to class on your birthday?"
Because I don't want to make myself dependent on Miss Minchi in any way, if at all possible. But I can't say that like that.
"Because lessons are important, especially the last bit."
"Why the last bit?"
"Jessie, I'm sixteen now. In the near future, maybe next year, my dad will pull me out of school and expect me to prepare for my debut.
I want to get as many more lessons as I can because I think soon I'll miss him."
That's not even a lie. Not only do I miss my old school days, but the classes distract me from the uncertainty of my future.
Jessie looked very uncomfortable now. Why?... Right, I shouldn't have mentioned that. Her own future was much more uncertain than mine and looked far more uncomfortable.
To cover it up, I'd better ask her something.
"Jessie, would you like to go into town with me today?"
"What?" Jessie looked at me, taken aback by the sudden change of subject.
I hastily followed up. "Well, I obviously don't have anything else planned for my birthday. So I thought we could do something together in the city? Go to a café or something?"
Jessie seemed to like the idea. "I'd love to, but wouldn't you rather celebrate at the seminary?"
I furrowed my brow. "I don't think the seminar is the right place for a birthday party at the moment."
"Why not?" I looked at her darkly. This was another one of those moments when her naivety was really irritating. "You do know what happened here a few months ago, don't you?"
I hadn't really meant to make it sound so accusatory, but Jessie blushed with embarrassment.
"Of course, I just thought..." "Don't worry about it. But I don't think you should repeat that around Sarah. I think it would be better not to poke her in the nose about it.
Come on, we have to get to class."
With that, we left my room to spend another day on the exciting topics of Victorian girl education.

The day is halfway through and Miss Minchi's eldest pupils are sitting in their classroom during a short break. Ermengarde is nervously playing with her pigtails, Jessie is practicing dance steps between the benches in the corridor and I am once again trying to immerse myself in the mysteries of economics. By now, I have managed to build up a certain foundation.
My birthday has been largely quiet so far. Official congratulations from Miss Minchi, her sister, all the other students at the seminary and the teachers.
Nothing else is different from any other day.
Suddenly Sarah came into the room. Without looking at the others, she stepped in front of me and said, "Happy birthday, Miss Herbert. This letter has just been left for you at the door." And before I could say anything back, she had already disappeared from the room. I looked at the letter. It was from my father. Great!
So much for my plan not to torture Sarah with my birthday. A letter from my father on my birthday. If he's now made money in the diamond business, the irony is perfect.
I opened the letter. Jessie came over with interest. "What's it say?"
I looked at Jessie askance. "I haven't read it yet."
"You could read it out loud. In the stories, girlfriends always do that."
"Yes, and that's a really bad example." "Why?"
"You don't know what's in a letter beforehand. It could be something private. Or embarrassing. Or secret. You should always read it quietly yourself first."
Jessie retreated to her seat, disappointed.
I tore open the envelope.
Dear Lavinia,

Happy birthday to you.

I hope you are doing well and that you are having a nice day with your friends.
I also hope you won't hold it against me that I didn't reply to your last letter. I wanted to surprise you for your birthday.

Is that why he didn't write? And I was worried about something else! I thought I'd overstepped the mark with Marinette.

Because my birthday present for you this year consists of two parts.
Firstly, I'm pleased to inform you that I'm going to grant your request and hire Marinette as your personal maid.
I think your arguments were sound and I have had her skills checked by Markus. He attested to her impeccable skills.

So he just wanted to surprise me and make me happy. Thank God! But who the hell is Markus?

I'm not going to send it to you directly, though. I think it would be better if you met her here in the house at Christmas to give her her new work instructions. Until then, she can help here in the house.
And yes, that means you'll be spending this Christmas at home. I'm in London and you won't be spending the holidays at school again. I'll be writing to Miss Minchi soon to make sure she doesn't do any extra lessons over Christmas and you have no excuse not to come home.

So Lavinia never celebrated with her family? But that also means I have to face my father for the first time in less than a month. Will he notice anything?
I should probably prepare for this very carefully. I can't upset him, I'm dependent on him.

I'm already looking forward to the whole family coming together for Christmas.
My second gift to you is of a practical nature.
I assume you've been busy studying economics since our last correspondence? I think it's time for a practical lesson.
I deposited an account with the bank with some money and a commercial power of attorney.
This will give you some practical experience in banking. Just go to the bank and pick out some securities to buy. Buy them and try to make a profit. It doesn't matter if you don't succeed and the money disappears.
It's not a large sum and this is mainly about giving you practical experience.
Nevertheless, I would be pleased if you could show that you have learned something in the last few weeks.
But none of that should concern you today.
Once again, I wish you all the best for your sixteenth birthday.

Your father,

John H. Herbert

London, November 24, 1869

Well, that was a letter with ups and downs. On the one hand, my plan with Marinette has worked out and I have more financial freedom, but on the other hand I will soon have to face my father directly. And God only knows what will happen then.
From the tone of his letters, I can assume that he seems to be rather open-minded about my new personality, but that doesn't mean that he agrees with my plans for the future or that he might not become suspicious.
As I said, prepare, secure and proceed very carefully.
But we can also do that tomorrow. For now, it's my birthday.
Jessie came over again "Can you tell me what it says now?" "My father wishes me a happy birthday and has finally allowed me to have a personal maiden and he's left a present for me at the bank." Jessie beamed. "Then we can pick it up when we go into town!
The thought had crossed my mind, but it would take a little longer and I don't think Jessie would enjoy sitting next to me in the bank for hours.
"I think I can do that another time. You and I better enjoy the day."
That seemed to make Jessie happy and I couldn't help but smile happily too. Even though I hadn't thought about it until this morning, it was going to be a wonderful birthday.

Three hours later, Jessie and I were sitting in an upmarket café enjoying a selection of cakes. Miss Minchi had fortunately just been in town herself, so we had no trouble getting permission from her sister. She had simply warned us to be careful and then wished us lots of fun.
How such a kind and indulgent woman could be related to Maria Minchi was a mystery of nature.
Jessie took a sip of her hot chocolate and looked doubtfully at my drink.
"How can you drink coffee when you could have chocolate? It's far too bitter." I reached for my cup and smiled at her. "It wakes you up and is a big part of our culture. Why do you think this kind of place is called a café and not chocolate? Besides, I'd rather wonder why someone would eat Battenberg cake when they could have chocolate cake." Jessie grimaced. "Chocolate on chocolate is way too strong. I'd choke!" Laughing, we carried on eating.
Spending time with Jessie had become a pure blessing and a welcome distraction from the stress of my new daily schedule. Even though Jessie was still struggling with an uncertain future and her parents' expectations, without the pressure of the old Lavinia, she had blossomed. She radiated with joie de vivre and was on friendly terms with almost all of her fellow students.
What a difference to the old Jessie, who had only clung to me shyly.
Even though she was still almost painfully naïve, she had at least adopted a much more forgiving manner towards Sarah and Becky. Even though I still wasn't sure she really understood what the situation was, she was at least trying to help them with kind words. At least Sarah seemed to appreciate her kindness and Becky wasn't quite so nervous around her anymore.
The time I spend with her is one of the few times I can relax a bit without constantly thinking about the plan or the future.
I don't know how I would get through it all without her as a friend.
Jessie had fallen silent and had been staring at a piece of paper on the table for a few minutes.
Interested, I asked, "What do you have there?
Jessie blushed and quickly pulled the note away. "Oh, just something someone gave me on the street." I gave her a disapproving look. "You know we're not supposed to accept anything from strangers." "I know, but... Here, look."
She held out a flyer to me, there were three ballerinas on it, with the title for a play I didn't know. The date was tonight.
"I was going to throw it away, but you know how much ballet fascinates me. I wanted to take it with me and keep it."
I looked at the flyer again. The theater where it was to take place wasn't necessarily the most prestigious. But it was close by.
I made an abrupt decision. "We're going there now." "Please?"
"The performance starts in an hour and won't take long at all. We can still make it today." Jessie was torn between enthusiasm and doubt. "But we're celebrating your birthday..."
"Well, I'd like to spend some quality time with you. And I know exactly how long you've wanted to see a ballet. Let's get going. I'm sure we won't get the best seats, but what does it matter?"

We had been given unbelievably bad seats. Standing room, right at the back at the top. Actually intended for service personnel who had accompanied their masters to the theater.
So we were standing next to a whole crowd of staff, other people who had arrived late and all those who couldn't afford other tickets. Honestly, the atmosphere was beyond stuffy and we'd be lucky if no one fainted. I had left Jessie the option of standing in a gap in front of me so that at least one of us could see something. To be honest, all I could hear was the music.
Under the circumstances, I was glad that the whole thing only lasted an hour.
By the time we stepped out onto the street again, it had become dusk and I eagerly breathed in the cold air. Jessie seemed oblivious to my problems and talked like a waterfall about all aspects of the performance, but especially about the ballerinas.
When she stopped to catch her breath after almost half an hour and halfway through, I tried to steer the conversation in a new direction. It was time and a good opportunity for a lesson that the old Lavinia had taught Jessie as cruelly as possible. I wasn't going to keep it that way, but someone had to stop Jessie from running away to join the ballet without any idea of the reality of the profession. Or from running away in general.
So I smiled at her: "You really like ballet, don't you?" Jessie looked at me, beaming. "Of course I do! The elegance, the grace, the expressiveness... Standing on stage and being admired by everyone... Nothing could be more beautiful." She leaned over to me conspiratorially. "You know Lavvie, I've often dreamed of becoming a ballerina myself. To stand on stage and be seen for my dances... Can you imagine that? Me, on stage in white, with flowing hair, dancing a swan? I would invite you, of course." she added with a laugh.
I already knew all that. And I had been thinking for a while about how I could introduce Jessie to the circumstances in the theaters without just brutally destroying her dreams. But I had an idea beyond her dreams and her love of dancing, Jessie wanted one thing above all else. To be free. At least to the extent that she wasn't forced to do anything she didn't want of her own accord. But that sounded less dramatic. I would simply show her the reality behind the scenes and then let her come to her own conclusion.
So I said: "Jessie, you do know that the ballerinas can't decide for themselves how and when they perform?" That made her pause noticeably. "What do you mean?"
I didn't want to hurt her too much, so I started off carefully: "Jessie, I know you might like to be a ballerina and you might have a real chance. I don't know anyone who dances better and more elegantly than you, not even Sarah. But you really shouldn't stop your training for it, life backstage is nowhere near as glamorous as you imagine."
"What do you mean?" She sounded a lot more upset now. I continued: "The ballerinas don't write the plays, nor do they decide who does what and when. That's all done by the theater director. And the dancers are completely at the mercy of the director. They decide who dances when. And in return they demand "favors" from the dancers who want to become famous on stage. Almost every famous ballerina has had to do that." "What kind of favors? Do you mean something like money?"
"No, I mean more like... "Physical" favors" I didn't want to come right out and say it, but this was an area Jessie already had some experience in, despite her relative naivety, because of all the expectations of her parents and the stereotypes about her hair.
Before Jessie could respond, I quickly moved on.
"A lot of the things you hear about ballet are often lies to put young girls off joining as it is considered an immoral profession. As far as I know, no ballerina has ever burned to death in her dress on stage. And there is also a lot less actual prostitution in theaters than people like Miss Minchi would have you believe.
But precisely because it is considered an immoral profession, ballerinas are at the mercy of others. I think you are a fantastic dancer, but I would ask you to consider all this."
And I don't want you to run away, I added silently.
Jessie said nothing more. She walked silently beside me for the rest of the way, lost in thought.

When we were almost at the seminar, I almost felt sorry for ruining Jessie's evening like that. But it was the best opportunity to confront her with reality without completely destroying her dreams. If she chose ballet now, it would be her conscious decision and there would be no rude awakening. But I still hoped that she would stay.
I didn't have much hope of seeing her again if she ran away.
And my friendship with Jessie was the only thing in the seminary that wasn't based on expediency or calculation. I didn't want to lose that.

Two carriages were parked in front of the house next to the seminary and a hodgepodge of furniture and boxes stood on the sidewalk. Someone was obviously moving.
Has Mr. Carrisford already arrived? Or is that just Mr. Carmichael preparing the house for him? Either way, it was the salvation Sarah had been waiting for. She would finally receive her money and could escape the seminar. All that was needed now was for Sarah and Mr. Carrisford to meet. By me, of course.
I took Jessie by the hand. "Look, we have new neighbors! Let's welcome them!" Jessie seemed a little surprised by my enthusiasm, but went along immediately.
Between the furniture, just outside the door, stood a man and a woman, both around forty.
Not quite how I would have imagined Mr. and Mrs. Carmichael, but that wasn't the point.
I curtseyed perfectly. "Good evening, are you the new residents of the house? We're students in the seminary next door to them and would like to welcome you to the neighborhood."
The two of them turned to us and the woman smiled at me in a friendly manner. "Such a polite greeting. Thank you for the warm welcome, Miss...?"
"Lavinia Herbert." I pointed to my friend. "And this is my best friend, Jessie Abbot.
And you are?"
The lady beamed at me. "Janette Smith. And this is my husband James. We're looking forward to being good neighbors!"

What, Smith? Something's gone wrong.

Fuck.

FuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuck!